


my angel of death

by overwatchmikan



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Author is also sleep deprived, Brigitte Lindholm has a fear of thunder, Brigitte Lindholm is incredibly sleep deprived, F/M, Mentioned Reinhardt Wilhelm, Rarepair, send help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 07:34:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16990746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overwatchmikan/pseuds/overwatchmikan
Summary: A long day of work, repairing and frustration leads to finding an angel of death in a kitchen, about to change the girl's life forever.





	my angel of death

 

Letting go a soft sigh, the girl wiped her sweaty forehead, aware by the intense warmth her face was extremely red. She had been running a lengthy shift of fixing multiple things she had most likely messed up in the first place; she had exhausted her fuel.

This is irrelevant, however, as she just started her hour break, and did fancy making the most of it. She got out of her worn yet homely red chair and began to hum a familiar tune, collecting blueprints and the ruined sheets of many words and instructions, taking a quick sip of the cold coffee she had gotten used to every 3am. The white cat mug was precious. It had a little jetpack on the back, unironically referring to her cat. The sharp, but gentle strike of the liquid in her mouth would be so much more bothering if she didn't know it was still caffeine, hot or cold. So she was grateful. Grateful for the Overwatch HQ having coffee at all, first. Second, knowing that they had a great workshop that she could work her ass off in.

Maybe she'd take a speedy stop at the canteen while she was on a respite. Get some more coffee, refresh a bit, maybe run into someone pleasant.

Oh, who was Brigitte kidding, there'd be nobody awake at 3am. It'd just be a bother to anyone to even see her in this state. A horrid her, drenched in sweat. Yeah, after that, she thought that she didn't really want to go to the canteen at all. But hesitantly, she was out of the door in a few seconds, the cat mug having disappeared from the room with her.

While tip-toeing down the corridor, she felt a strange, ominous sense that crawled over her back. "Who knew the base could get this terrifying at night," Brigitte whispered to herself. Maybe she wasn't whispering to herself after all, she thought. Well, that, of course, made her more frightened.   
The corridor was a quiet place at 3am, of course it would be, Overwatch had hardly any night owls. The darkness perfectly accompanied this silence, as if to enforce the fact that hardly anyone bothered about these hallways anyways; the lightbulbs were never fixed. The many dead plants lay neatly across the sides were never took out and replaced with new ones. Maybe people were just too lazy, maybe people just could be more bothered with important things like missions.

Almost as if accompanying this sense of dread overcoming her body, thunder struck the roof of the corridor, allowing the Swede to jump, swiping her hand on to where her heart would be, taking a long breath. "Jesus Christ," She closed her eyes and took another breather, "I-I didn't know there was going to be thunder tonight, otherwise I wouldn't have come out."

Her fear of thunder was practically one of the cutest things about the girl. Despite being extremely brawny and strong, if she heard a single strike of thunder, she'd sprint to shelter and curl up in a ball, just like a cat. Every time this had happened so far, Reinhardt had been with her, and had always been teasing her about it. Of course, being the honourable and respectful man he was, he kept it a secret from others. However, if it ever happened when she was out on a mission.. she would be the laughing stock of the whole HQ probably for a whole month. Brigitte shook her head, moving further into the darkened hallway, eventually reaching the canteen.

Pushing out her shaky hand, grasping the doorknob, she peeped in, taking a sip of air. Brigitte didn't know why she seemed so nervous about entering the canteen, her literal home for about 3 hours of each day at least. Or, maybe, she just had a good gut feeling.

It was just all obvious. Too obvious.

She still gathered strength and flung the door open, the butterflies in her stomach continuing to fly around. A foot greeted her seemingly cheerful attitude, tripping her over. Before she could hit the ground, a hard object slammed into her head, and she was on the cold floor in seconds. Black dots faded her image of the person - no, monster, that was stood before her, a mask - a reaper, a reaper. 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry it's short!! I tried my best to continue but just couldn't fit anything else in, and it seemed a suitable place to end. I'm not sure whether to continue this or not, or just drop it and find something new. I really like this rarepair, and feel it's a bit underrated! It should totally be appreciated more.


End file.
